Blitzcrank's Fleshling Friendship Compatibility Services
by sarcasticallydelicious
Summary: The League attempts a social event. It goes about as well as would be expected.
1. Lux and Lulu

Portmanteau n. 1: a large suitcase, 2: a word or morpheme whose form and meaning are derived from a blending of two or more distinct forms

* * *

"So, "Delightify,"" Lux read the last question from her list, tapping her quill against her paper, "would you please explain the etymology?"

Lulu giggled and conjured a pair of oversized glittery spectacles just so she could push them up the bridge of her nose. "De," she said primly. "As in a letter, between "M" and "Q." "Light," like dark, but not as heavy."

Lux scribbled on her sheet. "And "ify?"

"If you what?"

"Perfect." Lux finished writing with a flourish and replaced her quill in her inkwell. "So what do you want to know about me?"

"Hmmm…" Lulu put a finger to her chin, wiggling her feet where they dangled from the chair. Then she leaned forward, right up to Lux's ear. "Have you been spying on the snowdrops?"

Lux winked at her. "Silly, I don't spy on flowers."

Lulu nodded back sagely.

Unless by snowdrops she meant that meeting last week between the various parties fighting in Freljord. In which case Lux would have to be more careful next time, and pay the little Yordle more attention.

She had lost Lulu's attention already, Lux saw when she turned back to her. The Fae Sorceress's gaze flit between the other tables in the courtyard where their fellow champions sat in similar positions, across from each other at little two person tables. Or maybe she was looking at that butterfly Janna was blowing around in circles. With Lulu, she could never be sure.

Lux took another sip of her drink and savored the warm spring air. She'd had a good time, but didn't think these "get to know your fellow champion" events were going to take off. Particularly with how Blitzcrank's Fleshing Friendship Compatibility Services had set the match ups. They were only an hour in, and already Warwick had tried to eat Teemo, Morgana had blasted LeBlanc through a wall, and the Institute kitchens had to be evacuated when Tristana had blew up Singed's cask.

On the other hand, a few tables from them Ashe and Caitlyn seemed to be having far too bland a time. Sitting there drinking tea and talking like civilized people. That just wouldn't do, especially after how well those talks had gone for Ashe last week.

"Lulu." Lux leaned over and whispered in her ear.

Lulu grinned.

"Delightify!"

Ashe and Caitlyn jumped back as their table suddenly became a lot smaller and furrier and angrier. Suddenly animate, the table squirrel threw itself at the Frost Archer's face, and the two of them fell backwards in a puff of snowflakes. Tea and cookies flew through the air and table settings clattered to the ground.

Caitlyn shot an angry look in their direction, but Lulu, Lux, and their table were nowhere to be seen, thanks to a little light magic.

Lux and Lulu crouched under their table, trying to contain their giggles.

"Ooh, a firefly!"

Lux glanced at her, then at Caitlyn, who had her rifle pointed straight at her face.

No, the Institute wouldn't be hosting another one of these.


	2. Diana and Nasus

Aficionado n. a person who likes, knows about, and appreciates a usually fervently pursued interest or activity: devotee

* * *

Diana leaned back, arms crossed. She was in a foul mood, and didn't particularly care who knew it. Yes, the warm spring morning was pleasant enough, but she would be enjoying it far more if she was still asleep.

How had she gotten roped into this? She couldn't quite remember, and had no better answer than she'd found the numerous other times she'd asked herself in the past forty five grueling minutes of this farcical event. She supposed it was some residual obedience left over from the Solari.

Well, at the very least blaming this disaster on the Solari made her feel marginally better. But then, had she really expected an event sponsored by Blitzcrank's Fleshling Friendship Compatabitlity Services to go any other way?

She glowered across the table at her match. Nasus sat perched on his chair, sipping his drink and making the table between them look even more humorously undersized.

Diana glanced off to the side, seeing but not particularly registering the various pairs scattered throughout the courtyard. Her gazed paused for a moment as that annoying fuzzy Yordle fought to free himself from his current position between the crazed wolf man's jaws. He jabbed a dart into the wolf's muzzle and disappeared into the bushes. And just when she'd had the slightest of hopes something good would come out of this.

What exactly had that demented robot think the two of them had in common? Nasus was the last guardian of an ancient race who defended it against those he had once thought on his side.

Well, when she put it that way.

Still not looking at the massive dog at the other side of the table, Diana mumbled, "So are you as bored at this thing as I am?"

"Not as much, I think, now that you have finally chosen to speak." She felt the vibrations of his deep rumbling laugh though her toes. "I was beginning to wonder if the histories lied about the Lunari's blunt manner. The silent treatment seemed a rather banal tactic."

Diana went from as far as she could get from him in her seat to the closest in an instant. "You've read of the Lunari? In what book? I've yet to find anything in the Institute's library and-"

"Calm yourself, Lunari." Nasus chuckled again. "I will happily show you. It is a pleasure to speak to one so passionate about the search for knowledge."

He stood, but she was already up, more impatient now than during that whole wasted beginning of this thing. Even before he had set his drink on the table she began asking questions about the Lunari, the library in Shurima, the Institute's collection, and everything else she could think of.

They headed for the library, the path taking them past a number of chatting pairs. Only one distracted Diana from her endless stream of questions and Nasus' slow patient answers.

Leona's voice had a distinctly strained tone as Diana and Nasus approached. Diana supposed that shouldn't come as a surprise; her nemesis sat as far back as she could without knocking into the table behind her, and even still the Malodorous Executioner's smirking face stood only inches from hers.

So the Solari thrall was perfectly at home yelling back at Diana, but couldn't tell off an uppity Noxian? Well, Diana was feeling generous today.

They drew level to the table. Diana called the moon's power to her and casually kicked out her leg.

The table flew up and back, flipping and landing on top of the egotistical idiot.

Glancing back at the table, she caught Leona's eye for a second. The sun champion mouthed something that looked deceptively like "Thank you" and took her sweet time getting the table off her conversation partner.

Diana ran to catch up with Nasus, not even bothering to hide the spring in her step. It wasn't every day she found a fellow researcher, after all.


	3. Leona and Draven

Masterful adj. 1a: inclined and usually competent to act as master, b: suggestive of a domineering nature, 2: having or reflecting the skills of a master

* * *

"And then after her," Draven drawled, "there was this redhead who started coming to every one of my executions. What can I say," he waggled his eyebrows, "some ladies aren't intimidated by perfection."

"That's…nice," Leona said as diplomatically as she could manage.

Except it wasn't nice. None of this was nice. She had agreed to take part in this event, along with the rest of the Support group, because they had been told it was an outreach program for some of the League's more troubled champions.

Instead it seemed that Blitzcrank had needed them to take part to keep the body count low. LeBlanc likely would have been fine after having been blasted through the wall if Soraka had not been there with her magic, but Leona wasn't sure the kitchen staff on the other side would have been.

Though Soraka likely preferred that to participating in any more of Blitzcrank experiment. After all, his program had matched her with Warwick. That was just wrong.

It put some perspective on her current predicament. Still, Leona had the distinct feeling that Draven would have been just as good a time talking to a mirror.

She would be having a better time, certainly. Draven's romantic (and she used the term loosely) conquests were something she could have spent her life happy not knowing, and mainly she worried about the judgement of the women in his stories.

He launched into another tale, and Leona scanned the landscape. She should at least stay the hour; while Noxius was not one of the Solari's main concerns in terms of political alliances, she couldn't risk him or his country taking any offense.

Not that she expected he would recognize an offense. He already seemed oblivious to the fact that she very much did not want him as close as he was, practically lying on the table as he was. And to how pungent his breath smelled, and to his long mustache blowing up and scratching at her face.

A memory sprung to her mind unbidden, of last match when she'd stunned him and one of Katarina's blades had spouted from his eye. It was an uncharitable thought, and beneath her.

Leona bit her lip.

Footsteps. She glanced to the side. Diana hounded Nasus as they came down the pathway towards Leona and the obnoxious Noxian.

Leona had never longed for one of Diana's tirades as much as she did in this moment. But Diana seemed thoroughly engrossed in whatever conversation she was having with Shurima's guardian.

Well, at least one good thing could come from this, she thought.

"But enough of me talking," Draven said, twirling his mustache and grinning at her. "I'm sure I'm a constant topic at your little Support tea parties. Why don't you tell me about that?"

He did come up fairly often, though he probably didn't want to hear about how.

Leona was saved the need to answer when Diana kicked their table on top of him.

They locked eyes for a second. Leona mouthed a silent "Thank you," but she doubted her rival would recognize it as such.

Now what to do with this one, she thought as she stared down at the crumpled Draven under the overturned table. She should probably help him, as much as she didn't want to.

Leona stood with a sigh and rolled the table off him.

He cracked his neck, smirking up at her despite the blood flowing from his smashed nose. "This happens all the time. She just wants me to notice her. But there's plenty Draven to go around."

Leona offered him a hand, which he accepted with his trademark cocky grin.

The grin disappeared when she took his hand with an iron grip and twisted it deftly. He bent over his knee awkwardly, letting out a series of "owowowow"s.

Leona smiled down at him, her smile a touch past amiable.

She leaned in, the distance between their faces far less awkward but far more threatening. "Confidence is an admirable trait." Her smile widened. "But do try to temper it with reality, will you?"

She didn't bother waiting for a response, simply released his hand and went to see if the Institute's staff needed help clearing the debris.


End file.
